In the context of contemporary art exhibitions, the exhibition space often becomes a competitive arena: works are expected to capture attention through visual intensity, sensory impact, and “eye-catching” effects. The circulation of art seems increasingly dependent on the “consumability” of images, while the artist’s own sensibility and aesthetic are, consciously or unconsciously, pushed into a secondary position. Yet upon entering Feng Feiyu’s The Sound I See, all such clamor seems to retreat, leaving only images that are quiet, subtle, and imbued with breath—composed with minimal structures and gentle textures.
Resisting in Silence: What I Hear Is More Than Sound
Feiyu Feng Solo Exhibition
Composed with minimal structures and gentle textures
Words by Liuxuan Lyu
Witnessing, Listening, and Storytelling
This solo exhibition at 4C Gallery presents four series of photographs and short films created by Feng between 2024 and 2025, including Their Monologue, Where the Flowers Grow, and Water Running Through My Face. Unlike works that rely on visual complexity or spectacle, these images capture the minutiae of everyday life and fleeting emotions: a bouquet of flowers, a simple object, a blurred sensation.
During the preparation of the exhibition, the works of The Sound I See were once subject to hesitation. Their simplicity seemed unlikely to meet the conventional expectations of public exhibition. Yet this very hesitation is aligned with Feng’s consistent creative stance—approaching art with restraint and introspection, privileging the pure presentation of emotion and lived experience rather than ornate embellishment. The works thus not only record fragments of daily life but also embody the tension between personal aesthetic integrity and the expectations of a broader public.
This tension is not only manifest in her artistic choices but also echoed in her role as a guest speaker at the gallery. In her talk, Feng described image-making as a practice of “witnessing, listening, and storytelling.” For her, images always arrive before language; their meanings are never transmitted in one direction but are continuously regenerated through the gaze of viewers. She emphasized the principle of “less is more,” insisting that each element within the frame must precisely serve the emotional core, rather than be diluted by excessive ornamentation. Her remarks not only reaffirmed her creative stance but also expanded the exhibition into a wider dialogue on visual narrative and the public role of art.
The Sound I See continues Feng’s trajectory in demonstrating that subjective simplicity does not undermine public resonance. By stripping away narrative complexity and sensory excess, her images are reduced to the smallest units of emotion, memory, and perception. In this process, viewers are drawn into a state of contemplative attention, where meanings are regenerated through their own experiences and recollections. The public value of art here does not depend on external spectacle but on the persistence of everyday experience, transformed into authentic and enduring resonance.
Feng’s images resemble sketches of the inner self—at once fragile and strong, at once personal yet resonant. They also stage the silent theater of the everyday. It is precisely in this understated aesthetic that viewers are able to encounter the most genuine responses. Ultimately, the exhibition suggests that the public dimension of contemporary art does not arise from accommodation or spectacle, but from the autonomy and honesty of subjective expression. In this quiet resistance, art transcends the logic of visual consumption and rebuilds deeper connections between artist and audience.
About Artists
Feiyu Feng is a visual artist working at the intersection of photography and cinematography, crafting imagery that feels both intimate and cinematic. With a background that bridges both mediums, she distills personal experience into minimalist visual narratives, capturing the emotional resonance of fleeting moments with quiet intensity. Her work is an exploration of womanhood—its contradictions, its quiet power, its vulnerability. The women she portrays are complex and multifaceted, embodying a spectrum of emotional truth: fierce yet fragile, grounded yet ethereal.
Feng’s restrained compositions emphasize subtlety over spectacle, inviting the viewer to lean in and linger. Her storytelling leaves space for ambiguity, where what is unspoken becomes as meaningful as what is seen. Influenced by the quiet dramas of daily life, she uses softness and stillness as tools of revelation. In her hands, the camera becomes less a recorder and more a listener—bearing witness to the unsaid, the unseen, the beautifully unresolved.